Rising Waters
by HerFairy
Summary: AU: She's the acting captain, he's just somebody her crew saved.


**A/N:** Inspired by my recent fascination with Captain Swan fanfiction from the show Once Upon A Time. I don't own either of them.

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No matter how clever the name or how well-constructed the arguement, no human could give the sea a proper name, for they didn't understand the extent of its life anymore than they understood the stars that twinkled madly above their heads. How could they, in their lives that started and ended while the sea raged on infinitely around them, ever hope to understand it enough to give a name? A real, true name. The sea, that was the best they could do, the most any human could hope to give it, the most that any _Amazon_ could hope to give it either.

Sea hath fury if they do which was incidentally the issue that Diana was having now.

"Quarter Master!" yelled a red haired woman from above, her voice lost in the raging storm and crashing waves against their ship. The woman, Artemis, tucked her spyglass between her breasts, bringing her fingers to her lips in a piercing whistle that drew the gaze of every rushing and soaking wet crewman. She pointed off, her voice a yell that they barely heard, "Woman overboard!"

"Keep emptying the water!" Diana snapped, struggling against the wheel that threatened to spin out of her grasp, trying to keep the ship from flipping as another wave crashed into the side, spilling water across the deck and sending women crashing into each other as they ran back and forth, throwing water by the bucket load over the side. The wind blew dark hair into her face, she didn't risk tucking it behind her ear, but she did bark at a confused, novice seawoman that stood in confusion on the middle of the deck. "You! Get whoever is overboard, we leave no woman behind!"

"A-Aye aye, Quarter Master!" The woman said, Etta, turning on her heel and fishing a line from alongside, neatly dodging the other crewmen. With a steady arm, despite the wobbling of the ship beneath her feet, she launched the line out into the water, at the dot in the distance darkness who struggled to stay above the waves. The person grabbed the line, shouting something that Diana didn't hear; Etta shouted back, "I don't care, both of you grab it then, I'll pull you out of the water! Come on, hurry, hurry!"

Etta began to pull, faltering under the weight of somebody much stronger than her, and Diana yelled for the sailing master attention, quickly transferring the control of the ship to her as Diana jumped over the side of the railing, her boots splashing in the water as she landed, her ankles aching from the jarring landing. "Etta, hold on!" She shouted as the heavy line and nagging sea began to draw her towards the edge, threatening to throw her overboard as well and Diana crossed the few feet between them in seconds, grabbing the line above Etta, heaving with all her might to bring those in danger back to the safety of the ship.

The safety of the ship being only slightly more safe than the sea at that moment.

She, too, began to fall forward, the line digging into the flesh of her palm, dragging against and sending trickles of blood into the water, and then a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist, unable to reach the line themselves, and with the strength of three women, they tugged the line up and over the side of the deck, crashing into a pile of tangled limbs and panting bodies. Diana was the first to move, dropping the line with a relieved sigh, her fingers numb and her palms burning, as she turned to face the survivors-

-and found herself staring into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She admired them, surprised by the intensity in them as they slowly closed and opened, before realizing abruptly that this was no woman of her crew, but a man. A very handsome man with an angular face, strong jaw, and a pair of lips that weren't quite the same size, but still his eyes caught her attention until the coughing and spluttering of the other survivor broke her from the trance.

"Cassie! Are you okay? Great Hera, someone take her below deck, she needn't be in the storm any longer," Diana instructed, pulling off her own coat and setting it on the girl's shoulders. Cassie was the youngest on their ship and alongside Etta, she was one of the newest apart of their crew, having only recently joined to stand with her mother and she so far had most of the crew wrapped around her finger, a fact that she didn't let them forget. Not that she could flash them a cheeky smile to stay on deck, not with her dripping clothes and blue turning lips. She looked at the man again, finding that he, too, had his lips turning blue. "Artemis, find him somewhere to rest and something to change into other than those then return to the deck, we need to steer out of the storm."

Artemis nodded as Etta lead Cassie away. She almost regretted letting Artemis handle him, she wasn't the most friendly of individuals and against men, she was downright atrocious, but she also knew that if anyone could handle the man, should he become a problem and be just one of those other pirate scum to burn their ship, then Artemis would be the best one to handle it. Artemis lead him away, giving the others a wide berth and leading him down through a side entrance rather than the main, no doubt to make sure he didn't know how many of them there were or what weapons they possessed.

She returned to the steering wheel, directing the sailing master to take over as navigator, turning the ship to the north, away from the worsening storm that tried to drag them back. It was a rough while before they had pulled enough away that the storm wouldn't flip the ship and though the waves still crashed against the hull, they no longer drenched the deck in slippery, dangerous water. Still, the wind ravaged the sails, but it worked in their benefit this time, pushing them further away rather than trying to pull them back. She dismissed requests from the sailing master to take over, recommending that people return to their positions until the duty switch now that all hands weren't required on the deck.

After a little while, it was just her and the newly returned Artemis, who sat far above Diana's head, closer to the clouds than she was the sea, a frayed blanket around her shoulders to protect against the chill as she kept watch of the water around for sneak attacks or approaching storms, made difficult by the darkness of midnight. They stood in silence for a long time, only quiet remarks of passing ships and reports from their healer on the state of Cassie, who would require medicine that wasn't aboard the ship; so long, in fact, that Diana should have fallen asleep at the wheel by the time the moon went to rest and the sun began to rise. She enjoyed this time though, when it was just her and the sea, without the pressure of commanding others, as had been her responsibility for the past two months since her mother's illness.

Roughly, she shook her head, not wishing to think about her mother when the wounds still bled, but her memories weren't turned off as easily as her emotions and in her mind's eye, she pictured her mother's golden hair, long and thinning, her sunken wide eyes and bony features, and the wide, out of place smile on her face.

"Hera, give me peace, spare me of the images that I see enough in sleep," she whispered, little puffs of air coming from her freezing lips. From above her, there came a piercing whistle and she was pleased to give the wheel up to another, her frozen limbs protesting against movement as she headed for the lower deck, praying for a dreamless sleep that she knew wouldn't come.

XX

When the knock came at her door, she had been awake for hours already, her back resting against fluffy pillows and her legs drawn up to support a journal perched on her knees. Though she held a quill in one hand, she hadn't made a move towards writing out a log anymore than she had the other two months, instead tracing the small, precise handwriting of her mother and, if she procrastinated enough to flip far enough back, the curvy writing of her late aunt, Antiope. She tucked the journal beneath her pillow, stretching the pins and needles from her muscles, and pulled on dark breeches and a white shirt. "Come in," she said as she sat to put on her boots.

Artemis walked in, an absence of bags on her eyes saying she slept far more soundly, but with such an expression of rage that Diana shot to her feet, only wearing one boot, the other falling abandoned to the wooden floor. "What happened, Artemis?"

"That stupid _man_ ," she spat, kicking the door closed. "He only wants to talk to the Captain."

Diana stiffened, relaxed, and then stiffened again. She sank back on the bed, yanking on her other boot and fastening it quickly, before walking across the room for her brush, pulling it through her dark and tying it back from her face. "Does he say why or does he refuse to say anything except that?"

"He didn't say why, only that a captain would do."

"Very well, take me to him, I need to know what port to leave him in."

Artemis opened the door again, walking out ahead of Diana without waiting to see if she would watch up. Diana followed her, but paused outside the door to examine the other side where, as she guessed, she could see the faint outline of Artemis' boot from her kick. "You'll have to fix my door. Again," she said. Artemis shrugged, but nodded and lead her from her chambers, up above the deck only briefly feel the caress of the sun, before they went down the other side to the brig.

She frowned as they approached, already missing the sun, which was never quite as warm as it was during midday and to which she could use to chase away a lingering chill from her dreams. "Why is he in the brig?"

"I figured, until we knew who he was, that he would be best kept in here," Artemis replied stiffly.

Diana sighed. "Artemis, it would have been just as easy to leave him in a room with a guard."

She stopped before a wooden door, turning around with a sneer. "The crew was exhausted, they all needed rest, and it was unfair to make one stand in front of a door to guard a stranger. He'll be in there, Quarter Master, and if you require anything else, give a whistle, I must return to my duties." With that, the red head turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving Diana to question whether her ghastly mood was from something the man said, something Diana said, or her normal rage. It couldn't have been the storm, they had faced worse odds against the sea than getting caught in the middle of a potentially brewing hurricane.

 _Stop stalling_ , she told herself, entering the room and leaving the door open to ensure there were no prying eyes or ears hiding behind it. The brig wasn't her favorite place to be, or indeed a place she had spent much time in considering the amount of prisoner they had taken over the last few months had been little to absolutely none. For good reason too, it was cold and drafty, the wind whistling through a broken window, and it was rather cramped, only two cells across the way from each other that could hold a good five men each and a narrow walkway between with a box against the wall with lantern on top as the only light source, and the smallest of openings at the bottom of the prison to slide in food and drink.

They rarely took prisoners and so the cell on the right was empty of people, but piled up with the extra supplies they had to pull from the deck last night to keep from the biting water. The cell on the left was occupied by the man from last night.

Now, without the wind burning her eyes and the cold water crippling her, she could clearly see him. He had messy, dark hair and a line of stubble across his clenched jaw, his nose a bit crooked, like it had been broken recently. Beside him there was a thin, folded blanket and a pair of clean, unworn clothes. Surely he would have frozen to death without changing and she focused closely on his clothes, taking in the light consuming blackness and the hood that hung from his neck, something like a cape. He didn't dress like any sailor or pirate that she knew - and Diana knew quite a few.

None of this changed the fact that he was the handsomest man she had ever seen.

His eyebrows lifted as she entered the room, as if he was seeing her clearly for the first time too, his blue narrowing on her. "Are you the Captain of this vessel?" His voice was a baritone, but far colder than any voice she had ever expected and she couldn't quite pinpoint his accent; he spoke English, but he didn't have the Grecian lilt that she expected from most people who sailed in these waters.

"I'm the Quarter Master-"

Instantaneously, his eyes closed off and he leaned back against the wall. "I want to speak to the Captain."

"You'll speak with me or you'll speak with no one. My Captain is currently in the middle of something," she lied fluently. He didn't need to know that her mother was surely dead and was incapable of interrogating a prisoner now or ever. He wasn't a prisoner though and with that thought in mind, she tried a more friendly approach. "I am Diana, of the ship Themyscira, to whom am I speaking?"

Warily, he eyed her, not responding.

"Have you eaten or drank anything since we brought you on board?" She tried again, pushing away the impatience that tried to rear its head and raise her temper.

Still nothing.

"I'll be right back," she said, leaving the room. A short trek to grab bread, cheese, and water later she returned to the room, finding that he had stood up in her absence, his fingers wrapped around the bars of the cell, testing their strength. It was no good, the strongest of metals had been put into their prison, to keep any man or woman from escaping, but she lingered in the doorway, watching him with avid interest. Most people rattled the bars, trying to rip them with their bare hands, trying to pick the lock with their finger nails, jumping away when someone entered the room, but this man watched them, tested them, and when he noticed her eyes on him, he continued checking the bars.

"I suppose this is where I get whipped?"

She snorted, biting her lip hard to maintain her composure. "Only in your dreams, my friend. We don't attack people for trying to escape." Only for those that do escape, but as such an occasion hadn't occurred in the entire time that Diana had been on this ship, she didn't mention this, stepping into the room and lifting the lantern from a box to hang from a hook above her head, illuminating more of the room. "Here, eat. It's not much, but it should do. You can eat while we talk." She set a tray down on the floor, sliding it beneath the opening at the bottom made for specifically this before settling on the box, her posture suggesting it was nothing different than her usual throne.

Diana didn't have a throne, but she was damn good at pretending she did.

Unfazed, the man looked at the food, eyeing in distrustfully.

"Do you think I poisoned it?" She asked, frowning and when he said nothing, she rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. "Hand me the drink and pick something up, I'll show you. Come on now, I'd pick it myself, but you'd accuse me of picking up something that I would know isn't poisoned so that doesn't help either of us. Or you can let it waste, which is a shame of good food." It was human nature to be drawn to the people who spoke so calmly, so openly and Diana flaunted that skill for her benefit. In this case, his too. He was no use to her dead. At this rate though, he wasn't much use to her alive either and he was lucky that the Amazons were peaceful.

He ripped a piece of the bread off, a single grape, and the water, putting it on the edge of his tray and sliding it back to her. She ate the grape first, making a show of chewing it and pausing to wait for it to take effect, before grabbing the bread and doing the same, opening her mouth to show it was empty before she grabbed the water and took a small drink. _There, take that_ , she thought, pushing the tray back to him with a smug smile. He stared at her for a long moment, so long in fact that she had to squash the urge to shuffle under his intense gaze, returning it with narrowed eyes. Finally, he sat down and began to eat the food.

She had the strangest feeling that she had just passed a test, but for what she didn't know.

"Why did you guys rescue me?"

"Nobody should be left to the sea at her worst," she replied back flippantly, unsure of why Etta had saved him enough to give him a better answer. His penetrating gaze on her told her that he knew this, but he didn't say anything, content with the answer she gave. Or perhaps too tired from keeping his guard up to argue, she mused, looking at the dark circles beneath his eyes. He handled it like a professional, not an ounce of sluggishness to his movements, but he couldn't hide it from her. She also knew how hard it was to stay awake and tried to make him more comfortable. "Why were you in the water anyway?"

He clamped up, a wall jumping in front of his eyes, intent on keeping her out and sending her on her way, unaware that Diana would only respond to it as a challenge. He grunted, but said nothing, drinking his water and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't speak caveman nor does anyone on my ship," she pointed out.

He grunted.

"You, caveman. Me, Diana," she said simply.

He grunted and, before she could say something in response, said, "You've told me your name already."

 _Gotcha_. She grinned. "Yes, but you haven't told me yours."

"None of your business."

She laughed, not dissuaded by his abruptness. "That's a childish remark. And you are on my ship, the least you can do is give me a name to call you other than _that man_ and _caveman_." He didn't reply, staring at her as he chewed absently on the last of his bread and drank the last of his water. After a minute, she leaned on her knees. "If we're going to be children then let's play a fun game. You ask me a question, I ask you a question, and everybody wins."

"Not much of a game," he replied, looking at her strangely.

"And we're not quite children so it'll have to do."

"I can think of another game we could play that's for adults." His leer would have made any other member of her ship slap him, even the more timid members, but Diana didn't flinch, leaning closer to him, mindful of the fact that he could slide his hand through the bars to hurt her.

"Ah, but I would need to know your name. It's no fun when only one person gets to speak," she replied back simply, smirking. "So I'll start off. What's your name?"

"Veto."

Diana frowned, thinking back on their previous words. "We didn't discuss those."

"We didn't discuss any rules."

 _Damn him_. They weren't getting beyond one sentence responses and she needed more than that, needed to know that he wasn't going to be a danger to her or her crew. She thought, considering just leaving the room, having allotted him enough of her time and enough of her patience, but with his eyes locked on her face, she couldn't quite muster up the strength to move. It was pathetic, but she ignored it as a sign from the Gods. "Two vetoes then. Think carefully about the things you don't want to answer. What's your name?"

"Veto. Where are we going?"

"We're heading to Port Kythira to restock on supplies." She didn't mention that said supplies were mainly weapons, he didn't need to know that and she didn't trust him enough to say so either. "Why were you in the water?"

"I felt like going for a swim," he replied seriously.

Incredulously, she asked, "In a brewing hurricane?"

"I'm an adrenaline seeker."

"Are you going to take this seriously?"

He retorted without missing a beat. "Is that your next question?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's my turn so I'm not going to answer. Who are you working for?"

"You didn't answer my question," she said, outraged.

"Yes I did. You just didn't like the answer. Who are you working for?" He repeated.

"I'm a pirate, we don't work for anyone but ourselves," she replied, crossing her arms. "So far, I've learned nothing about you, but you've learned two things about me. Can you answer my next question seriously? Please?"

He considered this and she felt a flash of hope that things were going to turn around. Being nice was always a sure way to get things going, that's the first step of peace! Maybe she was finally getting somewhere with him. "Maybe. Why am I alive?"

Scratch her previous thought, she wasn't getting anywhere. "It's my turn!"

He stared at her like she was a dumb child, irritating her further. "You just asked a question and I replied. That makes it my turn."

Diana took a breath to calm herself although her words still came out from gritted teeth, "No, that was a request, not my question. Why are you being difficult?"

"Is that another request?"

"No! Why-" A shout went up from above, calling her name, and she was never more relieved to be needed somewhere else. Diana got to her feet, the last of her patience snuffed from her as she noticed his smirk. _Smug bastard_ , she thought, irritated, scooping up his tray and storming out of the room, ignoring way he stared at her. He had won the first battle, but Diana hadn't given up the war. If anything, she was more determined than ever to get under his skin and know something about him. This break was an opportunity to get fresh air, think of a new plan, and march back into battle. That is, after she got a long break away from his annoyingly attractive voice.

As she kicked the door closed behind her, she heard a faint shout from inside: "Nice meeting you!"

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I'm currently doing NaNoWriMo so I'm very sorry for the delay in fanfiction. Once November is up, I'll be back to normal, but I did want to share this with everybody since I've had it sitting in my doc manager for about three weeks now! For now, this is a oneshot, though if you guys like it, I'm not opposed to continuing with it!


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